Escaping from their brightly-painted captors, the pair ducked under a machine at the edge of the camp, huddling under the mass of blades, ropes, and clockwork. The whole contraption was painted electric blue marred with bright red blotches.
Certain the patrol had passed them, Glitch and DG darted out into the woods.
“What is that thing, anyway?” DG asked
“Oh, that? It's a-” His dark eyes went inward. “Oh, that? It's a-”
“It's what, Glitch?”
“I forget,” he said. “But it's what those ankle-biters were going to use on you.”
DG shuddered, realizing those red stains weren't paint.